For You
by Glowing Blue
Summary: Death had never been the paradise everyone wished it to be. But then they found each other. Two-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

Well, here's another one-shot for all of you to enjoy! I find it funny how none of these one-shots I've been putting up recently are the ones I've been planning and writing for months. :P Anyway, the inspiration for this one came to me a few days ago, when I re-watched the episode where (*spoiler*) Gin dies. So sad! :(

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

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><p>Things were never peaceful in Zaraki.<p>

Being the eightieth district meant it was the most filthy, most vile, most violent area in all of Soul Society. And the people that inhabited this crazed district were among the most heartless, cruel persons you could ever hope to never encounter; some had been that way from the beginning, enjoying the ruthless battles immensely and actually moving in by choice, while others who were not so lucky to have a chance at escape had to adapt and learn to survive in the hardened environment. Otherwise, everyone knew there wasn't even the slightest chance that you could live. Children pick-pocketed without a hint of the conscience that made one human, and women easily murdered others for the smallest morsel of food they could find. But the most prevalent structures within the hostile area were the packs. People teamed up when they could, hiding devious plans to slaughter one another in the recesses of their mind as they fought for food together and reluctantly shared what they could salvage. Greed ran rampant in Zaraki. No one really cared for another, and any partnership was only temporary. Lasting friendships were a rare entity – but not completely unheard of.

On the very outskirts of the eightieth district stood a rickety shack, pathetic in the sense that it could never protect anyone living in it from pillagers or devastating disasters. But it had housed a group of desperate youths for years now, who had all come together as a result of less than ideal living conditions. And it was towards this little shack that a certain snow-haired taichou shunpoed, hopping over rooftops and eyeing the grimy streets below, with his hands burdened by the heavy load he carried. Landing gracefully outside the creaky door of his destination, he grunted while shifting the package over his shoulders, and skipped knocking altogether in favor of simply marching right in.

Things were just as he had last seen them, with slight changes that made themselves apparent when he bothered to look more closely. The floors were slightly grimier and the furniture covered in a thick coat of dust, and he deduced that this was most likely because of the lack of a certain someone he usually spied among the somber faces. Settling the large package on the floor at his feet, he scanned the area one last time and came up blank.

"Where's Yoshida-san?" he asked softly, breaking the prolonged silence with his wispy voice. The boy had always been the most anal of anyone living in the home, so his presence was what kept the shack clean on a regular basis. Some kids jumped at the sudden words, previously ignorant to the fact that someone had walked in unannounced. Their expressions lit up drastically at the sight of his figure in the doorway, their eyes flitting rapidly from his face to the bag at his feet with cautiously hopeful glances. Two small children, who had been playing together in a huddle in the corner of the room, broke away from their make-shift toys and made a dash towards him.

"Oh, boy! Hitsugaya-taichou," the little boy cried, beaming as he paused by his legs. It had taken painstaking months of icy glares and snappy retorts to finally convince them to address him by his proper title. Once they'd complied with his wishes, he'd let himself admit that both were rather adorable children, and it was a real shame that their luck had landed them in the most corrupt district in the Soul Society.

"Did you bring us food?" the little girl questioned, eyeing the package with unbridled excitement, which was always the result of his arrival. He gave a curt nod and untied the knot at the top of the bag, opening it up farther and revealing the pile of packaged food he had hastily thrown inside. The teens packed inside the small shack all let out small cheers and hoarded themselves around it, picking through everything to divvy it up fairly amongst themselves. With a small smirk of satisfaction at their sudden happiness, he side-stepped around all of them to stride farther into the small house. Once again, his gaze assessed the obvious lack of one person.

"Where's Yoshida-san?" he asked once more, his deep voice ringing with curiosity and, if one listened very closely, a hidden fear. One of the girls, who had been leaning against a wall at the opposite end of the room, snapped her head up to glower in his direction, her filthy hair more rumpled than usual.

"Dead," was her harsh reply, and he took notice of how her eyes were bloodshot red. She had obviously been crying. While he felt his insides suffocate from the unexpected news, she spat out, "He starved to death just a few days ago." And she sent him a sharp glare, as if accusing him for causing the unfortunate incident by not bringing food around earlier. Before he could fathom any sort of appropriate reply, there was a slight _creak _from the direction of the bunk beds lined up against the wall, and both looked over to see another girl standing up from the mattress, her face no longer so shrouded in the shadows. They instantly took notice of the fierce scowl on her face.

"Lay off him, Airi," she shot back in the girl's direction, instantly coming to his defense. "It's not his job to bring us food. Just be grateful that he does, and don't throw your anger around on people that don't deserve it." She came to stand in front of him, almost taking up a protective stance. When they exchanged quick glances from over her shoulder, he sent her a tiny, barely noticeable smile of gratitude.

"Oh, sure. Come to his defense, _Karin_," the other girl sneered, folding her arms haughtily. "Everyone knows you'd practically grovel around in the dirt for that boyfriend of yours."

Karin's face adopted a pink flush, much like his own, but she remained steady. The exchange had caught the attention of the others in the room, and they all began whispering to one another as they watched, afraid that a brawl might break out at any moment. Airi was a pretty hot-headed girl, and everyone knew she and Yoshida had been the closest pair of anyone in their group. It had devastated the poor girl to find him dead, his body practically bone and his face sunken into a hollow mask. Since then, she'd been growing exceedingly edgy with just about all of them, lashing out at anyone who tested her. But the Karin they knew was always a cool, calculating person, never rushing into anything or purposely angering another – qualities that made her an excellent leader for them. So she simply shook her head, her ponytail bouncing.

"You need to cool off," she said carefully. "I won't pick a fight with you just because you want one." And she marched past everyone out into the streets, him following behind closely. Over his shoulder, he watched Airi clench her hands into tight fists and look away from everyone staring at her, her eyes pooling with tears once again. He didn't realize that Karin had noticed his gaze until she stopped, smiling softly, and muttered, "It's sad, isn't it?"

He gave a small nod, slow and unsure, and swung back to face her. Unconsciously, as he always did, his eyes ran over her form, assuring himself of her health and that she would not end up like Yoshida. Though her small kimono was caked in grime in many different places, and both her hair and fingernails were matted with dirt, there was a slightly noticeable glow to her skin that suggested her wellbeing was far from threatened. Her feet were bare as usual, but unlike the scratches and scabs he had observed the first time he had found her, the skin had toughened over the years and no longer made her feet appear mutilated. Satisfied that she had been keeping herself healthy and safe, he finally looked back into her eyes. She was peering at him carefully, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Am I to your satisfaction, Toushiro-san?" she teased, causing him to flush at having been caught once again. But Karin never seemed to mind when his looks lingered far too long upon her figure; she understood his concern and persistent need to protect another, as she felt that way towards many of her younger house-mates herself. And Toushiro's heated gaze always made her feel like the woman she truly was, underneath all the years of surviving Zaraki. She even seemed to forget it herself sometimes, when tough situations within her group forced her to step in like a valiant prince. Even so, he slightly tipped his head into a bow.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, always the respectful gentleman he had been raised to be. Years of dealing with men leering at his fukutaichou had taught him the value of treating a woman properly; he did his best to give Karin the right treatment, though it was particularly harder at certain moments, like when he hadn't seen her for long periods of time. Deciding the proper mannerisms were best in this situation, he hesitantly asked, "How have you been doing?"

She shrugged casually. "All right," she replied, as she always did to his inquiries. Looking up through her lashes, she returned his question. "And you? You took a lot longer to visit this time around."

"I had work to finish," he answered simply and honestly. The anniversary of Aizen's defeat was drawing near, which meant many of the officers were choosing to skip out on work and get drunk instead. At times he could hardly blame them, remembering the horror that had been the Winter War, but work needed to be finished on time, whether his subordinates were in their right minds or not. But it also meant he had to adopt the task of editing all of their paperwork, making sure no one had drawn inappropriate pictures in their stupor like Matsumoto once had.

Shuffling on the spot, he finally looked at her meaningfully, stepping a little closer. She understood his intentions immediately and settled into the side of his body to give him easier access. He delicately wrapped his arms around her waist, using the proximity to analyze her one last time. The top of her kimono was far too parted for his liking, like it always was, and it revealed the swell of her perky breasts nestled against the fabric. In a few decades, he was confident she would mature into a wonderful woman, and he sincerely hoped she would grow out of her Matsumoto-like habit to "give her ladies breathing room." His body heated up as he noticed the way his scarf was brushing against the exposed skin above her chest, and his eyes remained fixated on that one spot for too long. It didn't help that her skin gave off the subtle aroma of soap; he assumed she had recently found a stream to wash up in, as that was the only way to bathe yourself in Zaraki without using up scarce drinking water.

With one last whiff, he scooped her against himself and shunpoed away.

**.. ღ ..**

The first time he found her in Zaraki, she was in less than perfect condition. Her kimono was tattered in many places, drawing the attention of men who had gone far too long without appealing women to look at. Her feet were bleeding profusely because she had no shoes, and her skin was covered in so much filth that it was impossible to tell who was underneath. Because of this, when he found her, he didn't even realize the importance of their meeting, or that he had just discovered the dead sister of Kurosaki Ichigo.

The news of her death had been shocking, to say the least. Word came from the distraught substitute shinigami, though Hitsugaya, pained enough already at the loss of a dear friend, had chosen not to listen to the gruesome details. But too many of the shinigami were busy rebuilding Soul Society after Aizen's betrayal, and so no one could volunteer time to find her. They assured him that they would all stay on alert for reiatsu as large as hers was sure to be, but could offer no greater assurances. In the end, years and years passed, yet no one had heard word from the missing Kurosaki. And because so many had already given up on her, she was left to survive Zaraki for herself.

He was sent on a mission to the eightieth district when reports filed in about multiple Hollow sightings. The soutaichou ordered him to make quick work of the disturbance and return to his post, and so he raced out to the targeted location with Hyourinmaru in hand. What he found was a filthy girl in a little clearing, on the verge of death as a Hollow loomed over her figure. He wasted no time in swinging his zanpakuto through its mask, effectively killing him with one strike and saving her life. Sheathing his katana, he held out a kind hand to the one he had just saved.

"Are you all right?" he asked seriously, and when she nodded and took his offered hand, a feeling of familiarity crawled up his spine. However, he shrugged it off, eyeing her disheveled state instead. "Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?" he asked carefully, wondering whether she had a spare change of clothes hidden in a place she could call home. This was Zaraki, after all, and just the staggering number of homeless people could shock just about anybody. His fears were confirmed when she shook her head quickly and took up a defensive stance, causing him to sigh heavily.

"Wait here," he commanded sternly, backing away from her and throwing a glare over his shoulder for good measure. "I'll be right back."

He shunpoed to the nearest store he could find, purchasing a small bar of soap and a fresh kimono for her to wear. He'd noticed the ratty thing she had adorned at the moment, and it did nothing to protect her modesty. The one he had just bought wasn't a whole lot better because the stall owner only had child sizes left, and he was sure that would hardly cover her up to her knees, but he preferred she not dress in rags. When he returned, she blinked at him in confusion when he handed both items to her, looking at her expectantly.

"They're for you," he explained slowly, as if speaking to a particularly stupid person. A flash of annoyance passed through her eyes at the action, but she accepted the items anyway, itching to clean up properly. He gestured down a small dirt path. "There's a small stream down that way. Go clean up. I'll wait here and make sure no one goes down this way."

The irritated scowl on her face was prominent, and he realized with much amusement that she didn't appreciate being given such blatant orders. Even so, his words were practical, leaving no room for argument. So, grumbling to herself, she marched off towards where he pointed while he folded his arms and waited patiently, cursing that voice in his head that always seemed to jump at the chance of helping damsels. He heard light sounds of splashing soon after and grunted in satisfaction that she had complied to his instructions. Just from her physical appearance alone, he could tell that she was in her early teenage years, much like his own looks, and he'd learned that girls at that age could be quite difficult – his only proof being Karin.

Soon afterwards, the girl returned from washing herself, now dirt-free and significantly less snappish. She was tugging the kimono into place, trying to pull it down farther onto her legs, though she paid no mind to the revealing bosom area. When he turned back to finally face her once again, his words failed him.

There were minute differences in her appearance. Her hair was now sleek and shiny, wet from the water but still pulled back into a ponytail. She shined brightly, revealing that she actually had rather milky skin that looked soft to the touch. Her feet had been carefully treated and washed out, looking significantly less painful. But he found himself very conscious of her legs, much longer than he remembered, and the bumps on her chest that had definitely not been so prominent. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had just found Karin.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that, creep?" she snapped, secretly self-conscious when he kept staring at her with such appalled eyes. To mask her timidity, she tugged on the sleeves of her new kimono to smooth out imaginary wrinkles. But the action drew his gaze towards her hands, and his eyes sharpened at how skinny her wrists looked. In one swift motion, he captured her wrist in his hand and promptly shoved back the sleeve, peering at her bone-thin arms with an intensity that almost scared her.

"_Hey!"_ she protested, trying to pry herself free from this stranger. Her other hand swung back as a fist, ready to punch him out if he even seemed to be thinking of violating her; she'd learned the hard way that men could be ruthless, especially when it came to uncontrollable hormones. But his grip was relentless.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked gruffly, ignoring her tugging and keeping his eyes on her extremity. When she couldn't even answer such a simple question, he abruptly threw her over his shoulder and took off running, so fast that the trees only looked like green blurs. She kicked and fussed against him, repeatedly punching his broad back or tugging on his scarf, but he never let her go.

They stopped outside a small, rather shady-looking restaurant. Delicious aromas and sounds of laughter drifted by and hit them in the face when he strode in, still carrying her over his shoulder. It was a tribute to how unorthodox Zaraki was that no one shot them any strange looks. Instead, they were seated at one of the finest booths in the establishment at his insistence, left with small menus and each other's company. He set her down in the inner seat, taking his position beside her so she couldn't escape by running off.

"I'm paying, so eat," he commanded, coolly flipping open his menu. Her jaw slackened at his casual posture, as well as the rapid twists to her day. While he debated between two dishes, she sat there in a slight daze, unsure of how to feel about this or even act around him. She had no proof that she could trust this boy, who dressed so professionally despite his seemingly young age. And she found herself suspicious of how he could afford such luxuries as food or new clothing in a place like the eightieth.

When the waitress came back around, she had decided to refuse his offer of food and stubbornly denied being hungry at all. He shot her an irritated, sideways glance. Truthfully, he had already eaten earlier in the day and he had no appetite himself. But he knew from past experiences with her that if he didn't eat, she wouldn't either. So he placed orders for the both of them, ignoring her protests and the profanities she sprouted while they waited, almost acting as if she wasn't there at all. Of course, when the food finally arrived, fixed in an appealing arrangement and smelling divine, she scarfed it down in seconds flat.

"Don't think this means I trust you," she managed to force out between monstrous bites. He nodded along in amusement, enjoying her enthusiasm while he ate quite regally himself, in complete contrast to her nonexistent table manners.

He returned back to Seireitei reluctantly. The soutaichou would grow suspicious of his absence if he stayed any longer, but it also didn't sit well with him to leave her behind so easily. However, he had no choice; regular souls were not allowed inside the shinigami home, and for some reason, he wasn't quite ready to reveal that he had found Kurosaki's sister. After all, she obviously did not remember her life in the living realm, and not only would that devastate her family, but bringing her back to too many familiar faces would only be overwhelming for the poor girl. So he left with a vague promise to return, memorizing her reiatsu for future reference.

When he finally did return, which took much too long for his liking, she had formed her little pack. Though he eyed the young boys with distaste, afraid they might try something on her, he also found himself relieved that she had found a permanent settlement and would no longer have to scour the streets. Unable to completely appease his overprotective quirks, he struck up a habit of sneaking her food with each visit, ensuring he would have enough to last at least her until the next time he could see her again.

Months later, when the two had grown closer and he'd explained his true identity as a taichou to her, he revealed that their group had no doubt formed because of the small amount of reiatsu each of them possessed. It was not significantly powerful spiritual pressure, but it had most likely brought them together subconsciously, guiding them towards others they could sense were similar to themselves. Karin's reiatsu was unsurprisingly quite high, though it was nowhere near what it had been when she had been living. Now that her brother's own pressure was no longer causing hers to leak, she had lost some of that strength in her own, and he doubted she even had enough to pass the entrance exam for the Academy. However, he was confident that over time, it would cultivate and grow to its previous glory, just like his had.

At that time, and no sooner or later, he had resolved to finally bring her back with him to Seireitei.

**.. ღ ..**

Eating out had become a sort of tradition between them in the years he had been secretly meeting up with her. After that first time, he had slowly managed to convince her to try visiting restaurants in the higher numbered districts. Though she always insisted that they return to Zaraki – she would _not _abandon her family, no matter how much he prompted her with offers of a home in the second or even first district – he enjoyed giving her small tastes of the more exquisite luxuries in life.

Today they stopped in the third district, as he was sure the risk of running into anyone who recognized him would be minimal there. Karin breathed out deeply when he finally set her down again, never having gotten used to the insane speed of shunpo. He smirked at her slight daze, keeping his hands firmly on her hips to steady her until she pulled away herself. Before stepping back, however, she placed gentle hands on his shoulders, sending him a shamed look.

"Listen, I'm sorry about Airi," she muttered, her posture sagging. "She's just in a bad mood these days."

"It's perfectly all right," he assured her, gently pulling off her hands and taking them in his own. He was used to others shooting him strange looks or treating him with hostility. It had taken decades of ridicule for him to learn that what others spoke of him was nowhere near as important as how he viewed himself. What mattered most to him at the moment was not his relationship with insignificant children who played no part in his life, but how he carried on with Karin. So he patted her hand reassuringly, enjoying the way her eyes softened from the gesture.

"Okay, then!" she exclaimed brightly, pulling back but keeping one hand in his. "Let's go get some chow."

He chuckled lightly, nodding in agreement, and they wandered down the streets together. He had never been to this area himself, so they basically followed their sense of smell to the best appetizing scent. He was well aware that if Matsumoto ever learned of their monthly outings together, she would tease him endlessly about him finally dating a girl after all his years of snubbing the academy girls that swooned over him. But they really did seem like a couple. It had become a sort of subconscious habit to hold hands when they strolled together, intertwining their thin fingers loosely yet with just as equal possessiveness. When stall owners stopped them in the streets to croon over the couple and offer flowers for him to present to his girlfriend, rather than negating their assumptions, both accepted the presents graciously. Once, he'd even copied the young couples he had spied spending time together and placed a small flower into her hair, nestling it between her tidy strands. And Karin, contrary to popular belief, had accepted with a shyness that had sprouted with her growing feminine whims.

Their small adventure led them to a cozy-looking building tucked into the corner of a long street of restaurants. Of all the stores, this was the only one that offered a peaceful environment; while the others hosted rowdy customers, this seemed like it had been built for those that appreciated the rare gift of a silent afternoon. When the two spotted the elderly couple working behind the counter inside, there was no doubt in their minds that their afternoon would be best spent here. They were met with polite greetings from the owners when they stepped in together, but Toushiro took notice of how many of the customers shot Karin looks of disgust, eyeing her soiled clothing with haughty disapproval. Though they graced him with nothing but respect, it seemed his presence was not enough to earn Karin the same treatment. He resisted the urge to send them all a threatening glare as the elderly woman showed them to a seat.

"You dodged my question earlier," he accused her once they had been seated. Karin raised a questioning eyebrow, so he elaborated, "How have you been doing?"

"I told you that I'm fine," she defended herself, and he shook his head at the answer. This was the question he asked without doubt during his visits, and both were aware that he expected in-depth, detailed answers. When she evaded the answer like this, it only alerted him that something troubling had nested in her mind. So he simply watched her expectantly, conveying his frustration with her through a raised eyebrow until she sighed in defeat.

"Kioshi-kun got accepted into Shinō Academy," she finally revealed, looking downcast at the news. His eyebrows met in the middle as he struggled to remember which boy she was speaking of; apparently he hadn't left enough of a lasting impression, like Yoshida-san, but he berated himself for forgetting someone who seemed to have such an impact on the girl seated across from him. Though it seemed to the taichou that she fretted more over the news itself than the actual person.

"And this is bad?" he prompted, coaxing her to continue. He'd actually forgotten that the entrance exam took place weeks prior. On top of his hectic schedule, the fair-headed taichou usually only had to worry about the graduating students rather than the new inductees.

"He tried to convince me to try, too," she admitted, watching him closely to gauge his reaction. Despite the fact that his hands tightened into fists so tense she could see his veins popping out, he allowed no other reaction to shine through. "He said I have reiatsu even stronger than his," she continued, "and that I should use it to earn a better life for myself."

"What did you say?" he asked softly, his voice controlled even as his lips thinned out into a straight line. He silently cursed this Kioshi boy, who seemed to take pleasure in hindering all of his careful planning and timing concerning the talented and powerful friend he was only trying his hardest to protect. He sincerely hoped Karin had not succumbed to his impulsive words; everyone at that house was well aware the consequences they would face by stepping into their relationship, which he'd made perfectly clear was off limits.

"I said no," she answered easily, much to his relief. Even so, the reply only heightened her somber mood, and she explained, "He didn't like that. He got mad at me and kept trying to convince me to come with him, so we could escape Zaraki together. But I told him that you didn't want me to join until I was ready." She closed her eyes, remembering the incident with both the pain of loss and the irritation of being ordered around. "He told me I needed to stop listening to every word you said and think for myself." Her lips quirked up into a smile, and she shot him an amused look. "He said you were bad for me, Toushiro-san."

Hitsugaya almost snorted at the statement, which sounded rather like lines from the romantic movies Orihime and Matsumoto had enjoyed together years ago, when they'd been stationed in the living world and the peculiar human had offered them her hospitality. Karin's smile widened at his reaction, happy that he seemed to find humor in the situation rather than the anger she had expected, and both finally let the subject drop. It was one of the quirks he loved about their relationship; neither of them had to speak a word to understand that the topic had been closed, saving him from an embarrassing reply while still conveying his approval of her handling of the situation.

The rest of their meal passed peacefully. Karin regaled him with her tales of the eightieth district, and even managed to weasel out information on his missions from him. Time always passed so smoothly and fairly too quickly when he was spending it with her, since he paid no mind to anyone entering or leaving the restaurant as they chatted for hours. He wasn't much of a talker, and neither was she, but a month apart had given them plenty of stories to tell. The elderly couple seemed to have taken a liking to them, as they kept pushing more food onto their plate to try.

"You're too skinny, sweetheart!" they lectured a sheepish Karin, aghast at the sight of her bony arms and legs. The woman pursed her lips sympathetically when she seemed to realize that the girl had the luck of residing in the most boorish district of them all, and it only prompted her to pamper the Kurosaki even more. Karin made unsuccessful attempts to deflect all the attention on her, uncomfortable under the spotlight, but they wouldn't hear a word of it. Toushiro simply locked his fingers together and enjoyed the scene unfolding before him, rather reminded of his own family.

When the time came for payment, he gladly emptied his wallet, firmly believing that the couple had earned every yen he paid them. Rather than leave afterwards, however, he ordered a small but expensive bottle of fine wine for the two to share. Just because he scolded his fukutaichou routinely for her habits, it did not mean that he did not enjoy a drink himself every now and then. The haori he wore atop his uniform was proof enough that he was much older than he physically appeared, so the owners graciously abided by his request, bringing them small cups as well. Karin did the honors of opening the bottle, as she had always found that to be such an interesting task, and poured them both a generous amount. He chuckled at her enthusiasm, especially remembering her reluctance the first time he had asked for a drink after their meal.

"I was under the impression that everyone in Zaraki enjoyed drinking," he had said, appalled by this new revelation that opposed his long standing belief. She'd assured him they did, but her worries lied elsewhere.

"I'm not of age," she'd fretted, biting her bottom lip. He'd simply shaken his head and explained that, though she looked so young, she had already reached the proper drinking age, technically speaking. So, with his encouragement, she'd tried wine for the first time, taking reluctant sips from her glass and making faces at the strange, unfamiliar taste. Over the years, she'd slowly learned to enjoy the experience of the liquor he presented her with, spurred on through his presence. The small act of communion had just become another part of their monthly sacred tradition.

Karin carefully handed him a cup of wine and wrapped her fingers around her own. Holding hers in the air, she beckoned he do the same. He brought his inches from hers, waiting for her toast.

"To Kioshi-kun," she declared, giggling when he rolled his eyes. "May he become a shinigami worth remembering, and may he learn when to mind his own business where he's not wanted!"

He repeated her words under his breath, and the two clinked glasses. Satisfied with their small toast, both took a sip together, smiling slightly against the rims of their cups.

**.. ღ ..**

Hitsugaya shivered pleasantly when Karin deeply sighed against his neck. The two had polished off the entire bottle of wine, and when her cheeks had adopted a red tinge, he'd decided it was time to finally return her to her home. Now, he shunpoed over the rooftops, keeping her firmly pressed against himself as he did so. The sun was finally beginning to set, making way for the feeling of an approaching day's end that usually accompanied early evening. Bars seemed to be opening in the streets below, and many men were already strutting inside, prepared to drink themselves into a stupor and hopefully pick a legendary fight. Hitsugaya nodded in satisfaction when he noticed that the weak-willed women and small children had made themselves scarce in the light of danger.

He landed right outside Karin's shack, relieved to find that all of her house-mates had shut themselves inside; good-byes between the two of them were always kept private. Karin settled her feet back onto the ground, steady since she was not drunk from their drinking. In fact, she seemed completely aware of her surroundings, as a sad smile played on her lips when she realized their parting was drawing close. Just as she had early on in the afternoon, she placed her hands on his shoulders gently.

"See you next month?" she whispered, her eyes saddening as the meaning behind the words hit her full force. From the moment he left, the two would have to wait a full month – a painstaking thirty days – before they could see one another once again. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she almost wished he wasn't a taichou of great importance who had duties to attend to.

"Of course," he replied, noticing her somber mood and attempting to appease her. The parting was unbearable to him as well. Until their next meeting, he would be left to worry over her safety, to wonder whether she was still safe or if someone had harmed her in any way. The possibility of hunger never escaped his mind, either. Right now, in this moment, he held her in his arms and had no qualms over her wellbeing. It was selfish, but this was how close he always wanted her to be.

Karin's smile did grow slightly bigger at his answer, as she realized that he was trying to make her happier in the last moments they were together; it was his roundabout way of providing comfort. Neither were emotional people, and it had taken her a long time to come to the realization that he was actually attempting to lighten her mood in the times she found him to be most harsh. And she couldn't help but observe his gruff manner of speaking, or the lightly embarrassed tinge to his posture, or even the way he couldn't meet her in the eyes as he stepped out of his comfort zone for her. She had never known what she had done to deserve such kindness from him, but she was fully aware that her life would never be so fulfilling if he was not a part of it. That blatant truth always filled her with a happiness that almost made her feel that she could burst from it, and the feeling returned at the very moment. So, grinning softly, she leaned over and pressed her lips lightly to his.

His eyes widened at the sudden action, but unlike the first time she had done it years ago, he did not jump away in shock. Instead, he returned it with a soft pucker of his own lips, putting a gentle strength behind the action.

Their kisses were never vulgar, never any more passionate than the simple touch of her mouth against his. She had been the first to initiate the intimate action, using the gesture as a silent thank you for all he had done for her. It had mortified them both when he had pulled away from the unexpected act, but the next time he had visited, they found themselves kissing good-bye. And since then, it had become their parting gesture, much more meaningful than simple, spoken words ever could be.

Hitsugaya had never been one to become so intimate with a girl on a whim, but Karin always managed to make it feel right, like it was only natural to have such an exchange between them. He came to understand her curiosity behind kissing, her desire to explore this new sense of sexuality that came with the task of growing up, and so he obliged her with himself. There was no one else she could perceive these strange new feelings with, and no one else he would want her to. In return, he enjoyed the churning of his stomach and the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when she touched him.

They pulled away mere moments later, their eyes fluttering open, and exchanged soft looks of rare, unhidden happiness. The sun was beginning to set farther, and both realized that their time was up. She would never ask him to stay longer, though she always wanted to, and he never offered to stay, because he couldn't. So the two pulled away quickly, letting meaningful silence wash over them. She held up a hand in farewell, stepping back towards her front door as her eyes never left him. Before taking off, he turned back once more and sent her a curt nod of the head, reassuring her that he would definitely return as he always did. Then, he finally shunpoed away.

Karin watched him disappear from her place by the door, already longing for the arrival of the next month.

* * *

><p>Did you enjoy the random fluff? :D I hope so!<p>

Anyway, I usually depict Karin using the energetic, tomboy side of her that we see when she interacts with Toushiro in the anime. But this time, I decided I wanted to write her as the mature and collected girl she seems to have become since entering middle school. She's more feminine and grown up, and I tried to capture that part of her in this one-shot. :)


	2. Chapter 2

So, I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter :) You were the ones who inspired me to write a second one for this story (as well as this one scene that would _not _leave me alone). I hope you'll enjoy this one just as much :D

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.**

* * *

><p>Matsumoto hummed a tune without a melody as she strutted down the halls of her division, swaying her hips and grinning widely. In her hands was a large manila folder, so ridiculously thick that just one glance at it could bring about a sense of exhaustion. But the fukutaichou felt no qualms over the matter, skipping along on her merry way. All this work was for her taichou to overlook, after all, and seeing as he loved to nitpick over every little detail, she was fairly sure that by the time she received it on her desk, the size would be considerably smaller – or she may not even receive the file at all in the end, if he decided it contained nothing of value. So her spirits were high as she frolicked into the office, sliding the door shut behind her.<p>

Hitsugaya was situated behind his desk as always, furiously signing papers. Every once in a while, he would flick his wrist out to the side to work out cramps, dip the pen in his ink pot once, and return to his papers again. He worked much like a well oiled machine, and Matsumoto wondered if she would admire that sort of diligence much more if she didn't value the art of deceiving her boss and skipping work so much.

"More papers?" her taichou sighed gruffly, sparing her a quick flick of a glance through his lashes. She hummed softly in the affirmative, bouncing over and holding it out to him. He snatched it without looking up, stuffing it on the already insanely high mountain of work that needed to be completed by the day's end. Matsumoto blinked at his sudden action, delayed in realizing she no longer held the file. She eyed it, carefully balanced on the pile that threatened to spill over if any more weight was introduced.

"You might want to look at it right now," she advised her superior. "The soutaichou wants them turned in more quickly this year." The notion was almost laughable; one of the laziest fukutaichou to ever have graced the thirteen squads was offering her opinions on how the most workaholic taichou should execute his paperwork. But Hitsugaya, taking no offense, simply hummed and nodded along in agreement, scribbling one last signature on the packet of papers before him after reading it speedily.

"I was just about to," he assured her. "But these papers are top priority, too, so I just wanted to finish them first." With a relieved sigh, he flexed his shoulders, trying to relax the tense muscles that had coiled up from hunching over too long. Once he was more comfortable, he compiled all the completed papers into one stack, tapped them against the desk top to straighten them out, and held them out to her. She accepted them curiously as he ordered, "Take those to the ninth division. Hisagi-fukutaichou is expecting them within the hour."

She agreed gleefully, delighted that she had such a solid excuse to leave the tenth and sneak out to a bar more easily, perhaps with Hisagi as company too. Hitsugaya watched her go with a grimace; he was well aware of her intentions, but years of the repetitive cycle between them had taught him she would find some way to skip out on work in the end. This way, he could at least weasel an errand out of her before she did so. When she had shunpoed away with his work clutched tightly against her chest, he finally turned towards the new arrival she had brought in with her.

Flipping it open, he found himself facing the new recruits' forms for admittance into his division. The graduation was fast approaching, and students were eagerly awaiting the days they would be considered full-fledged shinigami. He remembered his own with dry humor, thinking back to those feelings of nothing but shame at having abandoned his beloved grandmother. He'd refused to admit he felt slightly proud of himself for accomplishing such great achievements in a short time - and at the school that so many older students had to drop out of at that - but it had been there. Now, he shuffled through the list of students who had been presented a chance at the tenth, whether it be because of their skills on the battlefield, work ethics, or their own preferred choice. With a methodical pace, he breezed through each and every candidate, finding one fault or another that made them too unsuitable to harmonize with his squad. Though he appreciated the hard work many of them had put into making it this far into their academy years, he also refused to take in someone who might sully his division's carefully constructed reputation, especially simply for a moment of pity. Besides, last year he had been more than generous with the number of his recruits, though only at Karin's insistence.

Once he neared the end of the large stack, however, a familiar name and face made him halt his diligent rhythm. He eyed the paper cautiously, unsure of how to react to the abrupt appearance of this blast from his past. The name brought back an inkling of that previous resentment he'd felt all those years ago, enraging him with the way the boy threw around such mutinous words so carelessly. A part of him longed to deny the student an easy route to the thirteen divisions, but another reminded him the benefits of stationing him so close. Tapping a finger against the paper, Hitsugaya carefully mused over this dilemma before finally scribbling his decision down and moving onto the next graduate.

Matsumoto returned well into the night, surprisingly not as drunk as he would have assumed but still horribly tipsy. With crossed eyes and a pathetic moan, she flopped down onto the couch in their office, nursing a bottle of liquor against her stomach. He rolled his eyes over to her, slightly bitter about his growing exhaustion and remaining work. But, as he would finish soon enough himself, he decided to let the careless attitude slide. Tomorrow, he decided, he would be extra hard on her.

No, not tomorrow, he suddenly realized with nervous jitters erupting in his stomach. The day _after _tomorrow. Tomorrow, he had an important appointment to keep.

"I finished the paperwork for the new recruits," he informed her, clipping some papers together. "Look it over and send it off tonight, and then you can leave for the day."

She grumbled at his orders and her loss of rest, but even so, she pulled herself away from the couch and slugged over to her desk. Finishing fast would be much wiser than prolonging the agony of staying in the office. To her immense satisfaction and relief, the folder on her desk was dramatically thinner than the one she had brought him earlier in the day. As she had expected, he had ruled out so many of the candidates that, at first glance, one would almost think the file was empty. But once she flipped it open, she found nine papers waiting for her, stacked neatly on top of each other. It wouldn't take long to brief through them, she knew, as she trusted her taichou's decisions without doubt. It was just protocol for both the taichou and fukutaichou to approve the new recruits. So she sat herself down and lazily looked through the nine lucky graduates, signing their files off-handedly next to Hitsugaya's name. One of them, however, caught her eye, and she peered at it more closely.

"Himura Kioshi," she read aloud, and the scratching of Hitsugaya's pen on paper paused for a second. Wrinkling her nose, she continued, "Decent grades, no misconducts." Skipping over the extra information, her gaze landed on the one gruesome detail that had captured her attention. "He's from the eightieth district."

Toushiro felt heat creep up his neck at her words, and he bent even lower towards his desk to hide the sheepish expression he knew had fixed itself there. The taichou side of him was well aware that accepting a graduate simply based on personal grudges was strictly unethical and frowned upon. But the calculating part of him formulated that keeping the boy close would ensure his dominance over him. When stationed in his division, this Kioshi would be forced to follow his orders, and Hitsugaya was determined to teach him the consequences of treading on dangerous, restricted territory. If he was being completely honest with himself, though, he could reluctantly admit that the bitterness over his attempts at swaying Karin's bond in their friendship had lasted even all these years. He simply wished to keep a close eye on him, and as far away from the Kurosaki as possible. If that meant denying him days of leave or assigning him to gruesome missions, then so be it.

Himura Kioshi had made a powerful enemy that day six years ago. And Hitsugaya full well expected to win this battle, no matter how petty the cause.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, he heard Hyourinmaru let out a small growl – a disapproving, yet almost amused sound. Toushiro scowled at the spirit's unwelcoming input, and especially his words of common sense. He did not need an ancient spirit to scold him for his decisions or restate what he already knew was a shameful grudge. But rather than snap at him, the ice taichou found himself presenting an excuse to the less than impressed dragon – a childish reply he would never have allowed before anyone but a part of himself and Karin.

_He started it._

**.. ღ ..**

The residents of Karin's home all sent her shifty looks, irritatingly hopeful yet suspicious at the same time. She did her best to ignore all the attention graced upon her, but as she had never been one to appreciate being in the limelight in such a way, the anxious looks on their faces only annoyed her to no end.

She knew they all awaited the arrival of Hitsugaya, who would bring them their food. (She almost worried they were growing soft after being spoon-fed every month, and soon they would completely lose their survival instincts). Using her happy gazes as an indication, they had rightly deduced that she was looking forward to an upcoming visit from her friend and self-appointed guardian. It was true that she and the icy taichou had agreed today to be the date for their next meeting, and now she was just searching for a sign of his reiatsu heading her way while trying to ignore the anticipation ballooning up in her stomach.

It was well into the afternoon when he finally showed up, and she waited for him by the front door. He smirked once he caught sight of her form, and she returned it almost nervously. She also couldn't help but take notice of how his eyes assessed her, as was his routine. While his calculating gaze softened at her well-groomed figure, she anxiously smoothed out her kimono, afraid that he would take notice of it and that it would upset him. To her dismay, once he had fully checked her over, his gaze indeed landed on her clothing, and his eyes narrowed.

The kimono had been a birthday present from her house-mates a couple of weeks ago. No one quite remembered their actual dates of birth after so many years of skipping celebrations, so they used the oldest date any of them could remember since arriving in Soul Society. For Karin, that had been a little over fourteen days ago, and her friends had surprised her by presenting her with a freshly bought kimono to replace her old one, which they'd saved up for. Though she'd accepted with a delighted surprise at the time, the thought of Toushiro had lingered in the back of her mind. What would he think of this?

Karin was well aware that her friends saw Toushiro as some sort of rival for her affections, and in return, her savior thought them to be a nuisance in their relationship. The two conflicting sides had a lasting rivalry, and though she cared for each of them deeply, it was tasking to worry over their reactions all the time. In this case, she fretted that Toushiro would only view the new kimono as a hindrance in their strange connection. After all, in all the years she had known each one of them, _he _had been the only one to ever buy her clothing, thinking himself responsible for providing her with all her physical needs. So she held her breath while he eyed her, afraid of his anger.

"Nice kimono," he commented carefully, but the distaste was apparent behind his words. His gaze hardened at the obvious change in her clothing; the baby blue designs on white fabric, marking her with the color of his element, had been replaced with orange blossoms. He had always thought the color as too obnoxious to suit her, and he silently cursed now over how lovely it looked on her.

"Thanks," she replied with an encouraging smile. "Everyone bought it for me for my birthday." His eyes flashed at the words, and she grimaced inwardly as she realized her mistake. Setting the usual bag of food at his feet, he crossed his arms and glared over at her.

"I thought I already told you that your real birthday is on the sixth of May," he commented, almost sounding like he was accusing her of something – probably disregarding his words, which he would view as a sign of distrust. She shrugged, scrambling to think of the correct words so as not to upset him further.

"I didn't think it would be good to tell the others about it," she explained, wary of his souring mood. "They wouldn't understand...us, you know? How would I tell them that you were a friend from when I was _alive_, or that you tell me about my living life?"

After years of cautious steps and carefully worded conversations, he had finally revealed the true origins of their friendship. It was a life-changing shock, to say the least, to learn that the boy who had always watched over her like she was his top priority had been hiding such a large part of their life together. Her thoughts spiraled off into a frenzy of doubts and distrust, leaving her unsure of whether he even visited without fail because he chose to, or because he felt it was an obligation to someone he'd met in passing. She didn't kiss him that day, and though her lips felt strangely cold and lifeless once he left, she refused to forgive him so easily. It seemed like the end of their relationship after that, but the next month, he returned without fail.

"We need to talk," he demanded, standing proud in the doorway and refusing to back down from her heated glares. She scowled as she followed him out of earshot of the others, keeping her expression cool and steady as she waited for him to speak. He ran a hand roughly through his locks before meeting her eyes with his own.

"You used to love football," he said softly, slipping into his memories while he kept his expressions honest so she would believe his urgent words more easily. She gaped at him at the abrupt topic, but he carried on as if he didn't notice. "You used to play it all the time when you were little, and though everyone said it was because it allowed you to be aggressive towards others, it was actually because you accidentally scored a goal the first time you kicked a ball, and that made you feel proud."

"That's crap!" she cut in, hissing as her face puckered. "I've played football, and I suck at it."

"You're simply out of practice," he defended her, shaking his head at the drastic change in her love for the sport. But it was true that there weren't many chances to play in a place like the eightieth, and that was a shame, because she might never rediscover just how much she shined with a football under her foot. He'd always admired that sparkle in her eyes as she practiced.

And from there it had spiraled off, shifting their relationship into one from merely strangely close acquaintances to two people that shared a deep past – a girl desperately searching for her true self in the afterlife, and a boy who held the key to all the answers.

He never once told her of her family. He could tell that the question was just at the tip of her tongue, burning her lips as she hesitated each time from asking. But he never offered the truth about the Kurosaki family himself; she could never see them, after all – not unless they passed on themselves, which would only devastate Karin after she had finally learned about their existence. And though Ichigo was a different matter entirely, Hitsugaya decided that he was much the same in too many aspects. Plain and simple, she knew nothing of him, and he refused to plant false hopes into her head that she could reunite with her brother when it would not be so easy. She was nothing but a simple soul, not allowed into the Seireitei, even for the sake of their savior. So he would wait for the right moment, when he felt she was ready to be part of her real family again.

Instead, he regaled her with tales of the smaller, more minute details of her life; their first meeting, their second meeting, their third meeting, and every meeting after that. After moving past her previous anger, she was completely awed by the thought that they shared a much deeper connection than she had initially thought. He enjoyed spoiling her with small details that sent her head spinning, yet brought a smile to her face at the same time; _that_, at least, only _he _could give her.

There came times when he refused to answer her questions. She was still a juvenile girl, too easily swayed by her emotions to understand his reasoning behind keeping secrets. She might let her temper loose at these moments, demanding responses to her inquiries. But he would simply shake his head, determined to keep a specific piece to himself.

"You are not the same girl you used to be," he would explain simply. "Don't think you have to force yourself to act the way you used to, just because I've told you stories about the past."

That was really his biggest fear about sharing her history with her. He feared she would take his words to mean that perhaps she needed to change, to revert back to the way she had been. The only thing she would be doing then is mirroring a girl she had just heard of in stories. He was well aware that Karin was slowly maturing, molding herself into a young lady through her experiences in the Rukongai. She was meant to mature and grow, not shrink back to the child she once was. Even if remnants of her old self remained rooted in her personality, in reality, she was this budding young woman, and he felt that she was perfect the way she was.

But her birthday was a different matter. Rather than celebrating on that false date, he wanted her to grow accustomed to her real date of birth again – because _he _had told her the truth about it. And celebrating with her for the first time on the right date had been a precious memory for him, one only he had shared with her.

"Anything you would particularly like to receive?" he had asked, trying to soften his expression so she would know that he was open to any suggestion. But she'd shaken her head anyway, flustered even just by the question.

"You already do so much," she argued, smiling at him in gratitude. "I can't ask for anything other than that."

But he knew, from years of learning with Matsumoto, that a woman never truly meant it when she said she desired no present. It had gotten him in quite some trouble with his fukutaichou the first time, when he'd foolishly believed her polite words and let her birthday pass without getting her a gift. She was cold to him for weeks afterwards, and he had to pry the explanation out of her. Girls wanted men to figure out a suitable present themselves rather than relying on them; it meant more that way, she explained, so if a woman ever said she didn't want anything, _don't _believe her obvious lie. So he was already well-versed in the game when Karin tried the same trick on him. Luckily, unlike Matsumoto, once he prodded her far enough, she finally revealed her secret desire.

She wanted something to color her lips. She did not know if she had ever adorned such a thing when she was living, and if she had, then she had no memory of it. But she'd seen women walking around the district before, sporting bright red lips and catching attention easily. Though she was well aware that these women had made it a job to win the favor of a man willing to pay them for their services, she wanted it not for the men, but for the illusion of maturity.

He received his fair share of dirty looks later that week, when he cautiously walked into a women's shop in one of the first few districts, looking for something suitable for Karin. The female customers all glanced at him with shifty eyes, while others subtly stepped in front of the more risqué items to block them from his line of sight. One of the owners reluctantly gave him her attention, hiding disgust that _very _quickly changed to understanding when he explained he needed a suitable present for a female friend.

And then he was whisked through the shop and given a tour of everything on display. The sales woman blathered on and on about any advice she could think to give him. He learned everything he had never wanted to know about female face paint; it not only mattered what shade you bought, but whether it matched your skin tone; the time of day was crucially important, because wearing something dark and heavy on a sunny day would only send the wrong message to others. She also threw in dating tips in between the flurry of words, amused by his flustered protests.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint Karin's "skin tone," as the woman had called it. Despite the endless amount of time he spent gazing at her face when they were together, he had never particularly paid any attention to such details further than how beautiful and expressive her eyes were, or how adorable her small nose made her look. As a result, the sales woman thrust every shade of lip color under the sun into his hands, tittering on about how it wouldn't do to buy the wrong color and upset the girl, so why not buy them all?

"No," he retorted, a little rudely when he realized she was suddenly trying to take advantage of his lack of knowledge on the subject. "Just one will suffice."

No matter how much he would have liked to actually buy her all of them, he knew Karin would never accept. She already frowned upon things being handed to her, and many times, he listened to her rant on about how her house-mates had completely lost their skills to fend for themselves. She had asked for one, and so she would only accept one.

On the sixth of May, he presented her not only with the usual food, but he also secretly gave her what she had asked him for. It seemed silly to wrap just one little tube with wrapping paper, so he had simply rolled it in a newspaper and tucked it into his sleeve. Excited, she ripped apart his handiwork and uncapped the lid, twisting out the color he had painstakingly picked out for her.

"The sales woman called it... light coral pink," he remembered, screwing his face up as he filed through his memories. She'd been so grateful that their good-bye kiss had lasted just a few seconds longer than usual – enough to make his head spin – and the next time he visited, he found that she had carefully wrapped up the lipstick and kept it safely hidden under her mattress.

Perhaps it was the sight of her wearing it now that calmed his agitated nerves, reminding him that even if she accepted gifts from others, he would always be the first to ever have made her so happy. No one else knew of her secret femininity but him, and it made him rather smug to know that her house-mates would probably never learn of it, as she tried to keep up a reputation around them. Besides, he decided, anger over a simple kimono was just too petty.

_As is holding a six-year-old grudge, _Hyourinmaru rumbled in his mind, but he shoved the annoying thought away as if he had never heard it.

"Shall we head out, then?" he asked Karin, who was watching him nervously to gauge his reaction to her explanation. She sighed in relief when it was apparent that he was no longer angered over her acceptance of the clothing.

"You're not mad?" she asked cautiously as he dropped the food off outside the front door.

"You were due for a new one, anyway," he replied casually with a shrug, scooping her into his arms to head off to dine together. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he smirked down at her. "This way, I can spend the money on something you _want _rather than something you _need_."

**.. ღ ..**

Today they chose yet another restaurant in the eightieth, as per Karin's request. He would have taken her much farther up into the districts if left to decide, but the Kurosaki actually had a place in mind herself, and she directed him through the streets as she struggled to remember the directions. He was suspicious of taking her someplace someone he had never met had suggested to her, but she assured him that the man was a very trustworthy one; he ran a fruit vendor in Zaraki, and though he was rather crabby and never took pity on the children enough to offer them food, Karin had also never seen him indulge in any sort of violence.

It seemed his judgment might have been slightly valuable, because Karin's instructions found them actually shunpoing straight out of the district, instead heading towards the thin boundaries between the eightieth and the next district; in this case, they ended up stopping at Kusajishi, an area that was definitely not much better, but an improvement nonetheless. They drew some heads in their direction, as they had never visited the seventy-ninth before, and the people were not used to seeing their strange coupling. They certainly contrasted heavily, Hitsugaya noted, what with her dressed in rags while he adorned clothing that obviously implied he lived in riches.

They joined hands as they wandered through the streets, noticing small differences between this new district and the one Karin called home. But Toushiro, more often than not, found himself entranced by her lips. Each time she colored them, he could never help but take note of how it changed her so much. And, to his mortification, he would constantly catch himself staring at how glossy and inviting they looked.

Not to mention, he had to be sure to wipe his mouth before returning to Seireitei, afraid that she had stained his lips with her kiss.

The restaurant they ended up at doubled as a bar, which meant it was rowdy and filled with men inside. No one really spared them a glance, so the two occupied a table near the center, away from the drunkards. At least the food was quite agreeable, and they had no worries when they finally ordered their traditional bottle of wine. They sipped slowly, enjoying the other's company as they always did.

When they had reached halfway through their wine, their lovely outing plummeted in the worst possible way.

"Toushiro-san, would you excuse me?" Karin asked him at that time, leaning towards him to mask her voice. "I need to use the ladies' room." It came out as almost a whisper, and behind her usually bored gaze, he saw a slight embarrassment from breaching such a topic with him. He just gave her a curt nod in assent, leaning back in his seat to get comfortable while he waited for her return. She dashed out of her chair, turning her head about in search of her destination in the crowded room. As she rushed away from their table, his eyes lingered scandalously on her exposed legs... and just slightly higher to an area she had filled into quite nicely. He would give her house-mates at least that much credit; the kimono they had chosen was wonderfully fitting at the hem, which meant he wouldn't have to strain his imagination any longer when he looked at her.

He quickly snapped his gaze away at the improper thought, slightly ashamed of himself for his ungentlemanly leering. He couldn't fault himself for it, though; he was a budding young boy, after all, bordering on becoming a man, and he found himself in pleasant female company every month. His intentions were bound to stray.

But Karin was not prepared for such a shift in their relationship just yet. He knew not whether she had ever explored such territory with anyone while living, but since her arrival in Soul Society, she had been forced to push such feminine inquiries to the back of her mind, making way for a woman worthy of being a leader to youths that were less able than her. And now she was slowly allowing herself cautious steps in that inevitable direction while using him as her anchor, and he would not betray that trust.

He would keep his hands to himself until the day Karin ventured for them herself.

Hitsugaya began tapping his foot against the floor as he waited for his companion, suddenly feeling stuffy surrounded by all the heat in the restaurant. Perhaps he could convince Karin to grace him with a walk through one of the safer, more beautiful districts. The sun had yet to set, but it was teetering close to the horizon, and the thought of a moonlight stroll with a pretty girl on his arm did wonders to sate his boyish desires. Normally he would have no extra time beyond the early evening to grant her with, but they were due for a longer visit than usual, and he felt he deserved it after his foul run-in yesterday with the 'Kioshi' name again.

"Oh, Hitsugaya-taichou, you were here, too?"

The familiar voice made him freeze completely in his seat as a wave of panic tore through him. Slowly, he turned in his chair - acting as if he was about to face his impending doom - and faced that rough grin and flaming hair.

"Abarai," he returned coolly, hoping that his voice would not waver and betray him. The fukutaichou seemed perfectly unaware of his turmoil, as he easily slid into the seat across from him that had previously been occupied by Karin. It was obvious by the way he did not tuck his legs under the table that he only planned to stay for a respectful greeting, but even that set Hitsugaya on edge. His eyes nervously flitted towards the ladies' room, hoping that Karin would not return too soon.

He cursed inwardly. Up until now, he had been extremely careful not to go anywhere where they could have an encounter with another shinigami, and Kusajishi had seemed safe of that threat. So what was Abarai doing here? He had no ties to this district, and as far as he knew, no one had been dispatched to a mission in Rukongai recently. And their luck was simply the worst. Of all the people that could have ventured upon them, did it _have_ to be the one who was exceptionally close to the substitute - who would not take Karin's reappearance lightly? He needed to keep the man away.

"What are you doing here, Hitsugaya-taichou?" Renji asked curiously. It came as no shock that he would think meeting the tenth division's taichou in Kusajishi strange. During their Academy years, Momo had often regaled him and Kira about her life with her little brother. It was obvious he had never gone farther than the first few districts, so he had no ties to the seventy-ninth himself. And no sane man would choose to explore such treacherous areas for fun.

"I could ask the same of you," he quipped back, hoping he could distract the man from turning the conversation back to his unexplainable visit to this district.

"Ah, well, Zaraki-taichou recommended this place to me back when I was still a part of his division," he explained. "I've been a regular here for years now."

As if to prove his point, a waited glided over to their table, handing Renji a drink he called 'the usual' and greeting him in a familiar manner. The man returned the greeting with his gratitude as the server returned to work, but when he went to set his cup on the table, he finally took notice of the half-empty one resting before him, which Karin had just recently abandoned. He blinked down at it in surprise, noticing that Hitsugaya already had one before him, too.

"Oh, are you here with someone, taichou?" he asked in shock.

Karin chose that moment to finally exit the bathroom, and Hitsugaya's eyes widened just a fraction as he caught sight of her. It wasn't a drastic change in his expression, per se, as he was practiced in masking his emotions, but the change on his face was foreign enough for Renji to make note of it. Hitsugaya never even had a chance to distract him before he immediately turned his head to catch sight of what he was looking at, and his gaze landed on Karin.

**.. ღ ..**

Renji was less than thrilled when he learned of what had been happening between Hitsugaya-taichou and Ichigo's little sister for the past few decades. He pursed his lips in tight apprehension and swirled his drink in his cup, contemplating what action would be best to take under these circumstances. Across from him, Hitsugaya and Karin waited anxiously.

When she'd first arrived back at the table, Karin did not realize the magnitude of what had just occurred. All she saw was Toushiro, watching her with panicked eyes, and a young man with shockingly red hair, who was staring at her with his jaw unhinged. Though his staring would have fueled her temper at any other time, she decided to wait for an explanation first, as this man was apparently one of Toushiro's acquaintances.

"Toushiro-san, is this someone you know?" she asked with unveiled curiosity, inclining her head towards the tattooed stranger.

And from there she learned that Abarai Renji was apparently best friends with the brother she did not know of. Toushiro spoke in a clipped tone, revealing the bare minimum to her about the man who had saved all of Soul Society – whom she called 'Ichi-nii.' And this Abarai, if given the chance, wanted to take her back to Seireitei to hopefully gain permission for her to reside there from now on. It would mean leaving behind her house-mates, as well as turning back on everything Hitsugaya had done for her all these years in hopes of keeping her safe until the right time. Needless to say, she had refused.

"Ichigo wouldn't like this," Abarai said with a deep sigh, taking a drink. "And I don't know if I could keep something like this a secret from him." Karin's face fell slightly at his words, and when he took notice of it, he gave her a somber smile. "You don't even remember him, do you?"

It wasn't a question that required an answer, but simply a statement that was as grim as the entire topic of this discussion. They were speaking of keeping things from their savior – important news that would finally give him the small ray of hope he had been waiting for since his little sister died. After so many years, his friends had banded together to finally help him come to peace with it, but nothing would make him happier than to know she was safe.

But she wasn't safe, Renji mused, his eyebrows knitted together. Not as long as she lived in Zaraki, at least, and from what Hitsugaya-taichou had told him, she refused to leave willingly. Her family lived there, she argued, and she would never abandon them so easily. The only time she would depart is when Hitsugaya finally decided she was ready to be thrust into the life of a shinigami, and though the taichou had assured him that time was fast approaching, he also knew that it most likely was not as close as he wanted it to be.

"Abarai," Hitsugaya suddenly spoke up, his gaze sullen, "I've been taking care of her. She's been fed and clothed and protected. That should play no part in your decision."

Karin huffed and punched his arm, complaining that he made her out to be some sort of damsel in distress when she clearly wasn't, but Renji could see the truth behind his words. Her skin was much cleaner than it should have been, considering where she lived, and her clothing, though worn, looked new. Even now, he could tell that the young taichou was keenly aware of her, ready to protect her at any moment if something should happen. When she'd first returned to the table, Renji had been occupying her seat. Rather than pull up another chair, however, she had simply squeezed herself into Toushiro's seat with him. And Renji could see how much the taichou had relaxed once she'd fixed herself so close, because now he could watch over her well-being that much easier.

He still didn't like this, but Renji would be a fool to insist that Hitsugaya couldn't properly protect her - not when it was obvious he put her safety even above his own. So he rubbed his face, finally flashing them both a reassuring smile. In the end, he would leave this up to them to decide and hope for the best. Besides, Hitsugaya-taichou had always been an intelliegnt boy; surely he knew what he was doing, so Renji saw no reason to intervene.

"If it's really what you want," he directed at Karin kindly, and she beamed at him, bobbing her head instantly. Relaxing at the sight of her happiness, he raised his glass to his lips to finally chug down the rest of his drink. However, his hand froze when his eyes landed on the front entrance of the restaurant. "Uh oh," he hissed under his breath, directing a panicked glance at the two of them. Hitsugaya immediately tensed up. "I'm guessing you still don't want others to know about this, do you?"

"What's wrong?" the icy taichou demanded instantly, his eyes narrowed. He leaned forward in his seat in anticipation as Renji rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I, uh, invited some people to come drink with me," he admitted with a wince. Both Karin and Toushiro whipped their heads to the front door, and the tenth division's taichou groaned in horror as he recognized a handful of familiar faces scouring the room for their redheaded pal.

Matsumoto was a sure part of the group – _of course – _and Hitsugaya spied Kira and Hisagi, as well. Behind them stood the ever lush Kyouraku, who was eyeing the bar eagerly. To his surprise, in addition to the typical sake-drinking group, Ikkaku and Yumichika had joined them, too. Oh, they were trapped with no way to escape, and he knew that if any of them even so much as _whiffed _Karin, they would instantly alert Ichigo. And Matsumoto would give him endless grief for hiding this from her all this time.

"Toushiro-san," Karin whispered by his ear, leaning into his side as she made suspicious eyes at the group from over his shoulder. "Are those people not supposed to see us?"

"No," he snapped, directing a heavy glare at the uncomfortable fukutaichou of the sixth division. He gazed back helplessly, looking slightly embarrassed at his dangerous mistake. To be fair, he had not known that he would possibly run into Ichigo's long lost sister here, and in Hitsugaya-taichou's surprising company, no less.

"My apologies, taichou," he was quick to cry out, staggering to bow his head. Karin could not help but smirk in amusement as the man attempted to suck up to Toushiro, but the ice taichou ignored him.

"Never mind that," he hissed, tightening his hold on Karin's hand in the case they needed to bolt. "Just get them out of here."

"B-but, how?" the fukutaichou spluttered, flitting his eyes about the room for an escape route. As he fumbled with his hands helplessly, he realized that he still clutched his drink. Looking down at it, his eyes immediately lit up. "I have an idea," he breathed, looking up at the two of them excitedly. At their mistrusting gazes, he waved an airy hand. "Just get ready to run."

And he abruptly jumped out of his chair, gulping down the last bit of his drink. Toushiro hastily ducked and dragged Karin along with him, as his red hair had caught the attention of his drinking buddies. Smiling that they had finally found him, they made their way through the crowd. But Renji acted as if he had never seen them in the first place as he slammed his cup on the table. In fact, he was acting mighty strange in general. He staggered through the crowd, pushing people aside rudely to make way. Ignoring their protests, he, apparently very drunk, stumbled to the bar, heading straight for a gigantic, excessively tattooed man with unfocused eyes. As both the couple at the table and his friends watched, he slapped his hand on his shoulder and roughly tugged him to face his direction.

"Ya tryin' ta pick a fight with me?" he growled dangerously, his words a drunken slur. Toushiro had to marvel at his acting skills, though Karin snorted at the display.

"_Huh_?" the man grunted roughly in response, glaring despite his confusion at the turn of events. Abandoning his drink, he stood off his stool, revealing that he was slightly taller and more muscled than Renji. But the fukutaichou hardly batted an eyelash at that as he, without so much as an explanation or warning, delivered a swift and brutal punch to his jaw.

The entire bar let out a cheer and surrounded them, egging them on as the man stumbled back, howling in pain. Ikkaku let out a delighted laugh, ignoring Matsumoto's cry of shock as his eyes gleamed.

"You _punk,_" the man snarled, lunging for Renji. He dodged easily, his footing too graceful for an intoxicated man, though no one seemed to notice as he kneed the man right in the gut. Ikkaku hooted his approval and, high from the thrill of a fight, unseathed his katana and jumped right into the circle.

As the third seat hacked his sword at anything in his way and the bar manager shouted profanities and threats, Renji took the opportunity to send them both a subtle wink. With everyone's backs turned, Toushiro slipped out of the restaurant easily, tugging a breathlessly laughing Karin by the hand.

**.. ღ ..**

Karin's chuckles still had not died down by the time they reached her front door. The bag of food was gone, meaning the teens inside had most likely found it. But Toushiro hardly spared them a thought as he attempted to help Karin balance on her feet. Still laughing hysterically and with tears blurring her vision, she toppled over into his arms instantly, sighing in content when she decided to just stay there for the moment.

"That bald guy just jumped right in!" she exclaimed with another peal of laughter, clutching him tighter so she would not slip to the ground. "Like it was _normal_. Oh, Kami."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he replied grimly, though a small smirk of amusement was playing at his lips. His walk seemed like an implausible idea now, as the sun was almost completely hidden behind the landscape, but he decided that he did not care. It was more enthralling to watch Karin enjoy herself so much.

"I did," she sighed, wiping at the wetness in her eyes as she finally calmed herself. Gulping in some air, she smiled up at him softly. "Renji seems like a good man."

He shrugged, agreeing with her in his cryptic way. He was certainly loyal until the end, and his perseverance was something to be admired. The only flaw Toushiro could think of now was that he saw a barbaric _bar fight_ as the only solution to their problem. But their secret was safe again, nonetheless, so he could not complain.

"Hey, Toushiro-san?" Karin suddenly spoke up, and he raised an eyebrow at how she had quieted down so abruptly. When he turned his gaze on her, he found that she was playing with his haori nervously. Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you tell me more about my brother?"

She couldn't meet his gaze easily, but she managed, showing him the determination in her eyes. The truth was, she actually trusted Toushiro-san more than she wanted to learn of her brother, which was why she could not be angry with him for keeping the secret; she rightly assumed that he had his own reasons for doing so. Toushiro-san was someone concrete, someone she shared memories with that she remembered, while she had only just heard of this Ichi-nii today through a story. But something tugged at her to remember him, and the same emotion warmed her when she thought of reuniting with him.

Toushiro could almost see all of her thoughts laid out on her face, as he was so in tune to her now. He could tell how much it would mean to her for him to follow through with her request. And at the moment, while he was still experiencing the ecstasy of their day together, it would be near impossible to stick to his careful decisions when she was looking at him like that. So he sighed, licking his lips and tightening his arms around her waist.

"I have no more time today," he told her softly, patting her cheek. Her face fell slightly as she realized this was not a straight approval of her request. But nor was it a denial, and that thought brightened her up slightly. It meant that Toushiro _would _tell her, just when he was ready.

"Some other time, then," she agreed happily. And, fisting his haori in her hands, she pulled herself up and locked her lips to his. Though surprised at first by the sudden action, he eventually relaxed and pulled her closer.

Today's kiss was different than any other in that, when she had pulled away, Karin breathed in lightly and instantly kissed him again. The second time was nothing more than a brush of their lips, but it sent a pleasant thrill through his spine, filling him with an unexplainable hope. They had never kissed more than once before.

"Hey, Karin, are you ba - _Oh_." They pulled their faces apart to find that Airi stood in the doorway to her home, watching them with raised eyebrows. Her eyes lingered over how closely the two were pressed together and how their lips were almost still touching, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. "Keep that stuff _private_," she hissed, slamming the door shut after. At that, Karin stepped away, and Toushiro cursed the girl who had dared to interrupt them.

_Well, if she ever decides to join your division, you certainly have the perfect revenge_, Hyourinmaru grumbled in his head once again, still pestering him over the incident with the Kioshi boy. He simply cleared his throat loudly.

"I should be going," he said to Karin slowly, and she nodded in reply.

"Oh, wait!" she suddenly cried. In response to his quizzical look, she jumped forward and brushed her thumb against his lips. A thrill passed through him at the intimate action, but when Karin pulled back, she showed him her thumb as an explanation. There was a subtle pink coloring to it, and he realized that she had stained his lips with her kiss. For some reason, that only made him wish to pull her into his embrace and kiss her once again. He instantly cleared his throat once more, hoping to better control himself.

"Goodbye, Toushiro-san," Karin murmured softly, smiling as she waved as well. Entranced by the curve of her lips, he mumbled back a reply. Inwardly, however, he wondered if she had been naive enough to share such a precious smile with any other boy besides him. It would certainly explain why Kioshi had refused to leave her be.

As he shunpoed back to his barracks that evening, Hitsugaya inwardly planned to be the _only_ boy to visit her next month.

* * *

><p>Well, the scene I was talking about was that very first one. It wouldn't leave me alone, and once I wrote it, I really wanted to share it with you - so I wrote out a whole new chapter. Be thankful that I <em>adore <em>making Hitsugaya jealous :P Oh, and hey, give yourselves some credit, too! I want to thank those eleven of you wonderful people who unknowingly became my inspiration ^_^ I hope you like this chapter enough to leave your thoughts a second time.

On a completely different note: Man, I am on _fire_ this month! I don't know what it was about the month of April that just put me in the mood to write. Let's see, I put up three new chapters of _FnK_, finally completed two of my two-shots, and then published and completed another new two-shot. Let's hope my muse decides to stick with me for a while longer, huh? :D


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